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“It’s just vodka to clean it,” said Jagger.
Vodka was another special torment since it burned like fire, but it was best if he was kept clean. Healers didn’t take care of whippings, and the prisoners had to recover naturally to learn their lesson.
Jagger removed the ginger, and Luke was left there for another five or so minutes. His shoulders were aching now and pulling on the brand and the marks. Finally, the spreader bar was removed, the clamps came next, and he was uncuffed.
“Easy.”
Luke’s legs trembled as he was helped to his knees. He thought the hood and gag would be removed, but it was kept on while he was made to lay across Jagger’s lap.
“I’m sure you’re thinking you already learned your lesson, and you’ll never steal again,” said Jagger. “Plenty do steal again when they’re only sentenced to fifty. The lesson will certainly be beaten into you after the rest of your punishment sessions. I better not ever see you here in the future once your sentence is served.”
Luke didn’t bother trying to reply as he remained limp in Jagger’s lap. His hole still burned since ginger juice needed time to wear off. His back and ass were too sore to stroke, but Jagger’s fingers on his hips felt good, and he almost wanted to cry again. If some other guard had done this, they’d have hauled him back to his cell and dumped him on the floor. If he was lucky, they’d set him on the cot.
Either way, they wouldn’t give a shit or offer any aftercare. Jagger rubbed his neck and the backs of his unmarked thighs. Soothed, Luke let his eyes close.
When Jagger tapped his shoulder, he was sure he had fallen asleep because there seemed to be a bit of a blank space in his memory. Also, his asshole wasn't burning.
“Let’s go. Don't move too quickly."
Luke was blindly led through the corridors, and Jagger didn’t make him walk fast. They went by the cells since he heard low voices, and he knew his face probably looked like a berrymelon under the hood since they’d be able to see his back and ass.
When cold tile was under his feet, he knew this was the bathing room. Still incapable of speech or sight, and with his hearing dulled, he was made to lay on a thick cloth. He assumed he was by the drain since Jagger sponged him down. A bath probably would have been too painful, but at least he could be cleaned up a bit.
Jagger was careful with drying him too, and when Luke stood, he leaned into his owner. The senior guard took pleasure in making him suffer, but he also took care of his pet. He didn’t have to bathe Luke or do a lot of stuff, but he did it anyway.
Even though Jagger was getting something from this deal, he was going beyond the basics. Luke had never imagined a guard cleaning him up.
Since Jagger seemed to be allowing this, another thing he didn't have to do, Luke put his arms around his waist and leaned the side of his head against his chest. Judging from the feel, Jagger seemed to be wearing more than one shirt under his plain black coat which was also rather thick. Maybe he was one of those people who was always cold.
“I’d hug you too, but it’ll hurt,” said Jagger.
Luke mumbled that it was okay. Being able to lean on someone real and solid who had some genuine care was all he wanted at the moment. Jagger rubbed the back of his neck, and Luke wished he could go wherever his owner went at night.
Back in his cell, Jagger took off the hood and the gag before giving him water from the bucket in the corner. He helped Luke to lay down on the pallet on his stomach and told him he’d get breakfast the next morning. Most prisoners didn’t care to eat after a punishment whipping.
Luke wasn’t hungry, so he didn’t mind. All he wanted was rest.
"Wait, Sir," he asked before Jagger closed the door.
"What?"
"Do you stay here or live in Elbannon?"
"I have a room in the guard's quarters. There's no point in renting a house."
"I guess I can't see your room, huh?"
"Sorry, prisoners aren't allowed in the guard's quarters unless it's the bathing room. At the mine, you can come to my room. Get some rest."
Luke didn’t get to rest the next morning after breakfast since Jagger made him crawl around the room he was branded in, stand to hold positions for several minutes at a time, and crawl some more.
“Even when you are hurt or tired, you must obey without dallying,” Jagger told Luke as he squatted with his knees far apart and his hands behind his head. A couple of fresh cane whacks showed that he had been a bit slow to obey. “If a guard catches you slacking in the mine and gives you a couple of lashes to get you moving, he doesn’t care how tired you are, or if you’re hurt from the day before. If you piss him off, you might find yourself getting a real whipping, and I can’t save you from everything. Being my pet is not freedom for anything, and a guard can't always be too nice. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Luke’s back and ass stung from the constant movement, and he’d started sweating which didn’t help. Having his knees so far apart wasn't a natural position to hold either. The last thing he wanted to do was squat and crawl around. Still, he knew he should be grateful for Jagger trying to toughen him up and give him a taste of what was to come. Others probably had little idea of what to truly expect without being a guard's slave. And maybe some guards didn’t bother to properly warn or prepare their pets.
Jagger softened his earlier, harsh tone as he stroked Luke’s hair, and his eyes grew gentle. “You are trying, and that’s better than some prisoners who fight every single thing. I won’t take a slave who bitches and refuses little commands because brats have a tendency to not be grateful. Relax for a minute before we start again. Submissive pose.”
